


Crazy Random Happenstances

by Rain Seaker (m00se)



Series: Chance Encounters [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Man Hunt, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2014-11-18
Packaged: 2018-02-26 04:30:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2638109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m00se/pseuds/Rain%20Seaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has done more than his fair share of world saving. He's had enough with all of it, but when do things ever go as planned?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, this is a sequel to Chance Encounters. If you haven't read that story you are bound to be confused. Take my word for it.

"You know what this means don't you?" Melinda May looked from the S.H.I.E.L.D. cube back to Phil.

"What you mean I can finally realize my lifelong dream of becoming a super villain?" The newly minted Director joked. "Fury just handed the keys to the kingdom to a guy brought back to life by something no one understands. It would serve him right if I went rouge."

"And what would the Cap think about that?" May replied unimpressed.

Phil gave a small smile. "You know me too well."

"Phil." May's serious face, one Phil had already too much experience with. She wouldn't let it go until she had an answer. "You know Fury better than anyone. If he had any family or pressure points no one ever knew about them."

"I know, May." Phil carefully placed the cube on the desk. The thing probably had a nuke in it to protect the information it held.

"You are not Nick Fury."

"You don't have to tell me twice. I would look terrible bald and can you imagine the eye-patch? A Disney pirate in the making." Phil turned back to the window. The bunker was still mostly empty, but as more Agents started coming out of the wood work it was filling up fast. "Melinda, I know. Audrey is as safe as can make her. Which means she believes I am dead and Skye has done her best to destroy any evidence of the connection we had."

"I saw that."

Phil turned back to her. "Then what do you want from me Agent?"

"Your cellist is as safe as we can make her. No one knows who doesn't have to." She didn't mention the former team mate they had in their basement. "She isn't the only family you have though."

"He will be fine. Even if his information was released with the rest of it no one would be able to read it or understand it. He has protections in place far beyond what the tattered and struggling remains of S.H.I.E.L.D. could do for him."

"We could use him." May reminded him carefully, aware that she was treading on dangerous terrain.

"He's out." Phil replied firmly. "He was out before I died and he was only more out once I was gone. If the Avengers couldn't bring him back to the fold why would I try? He doesn't need us." Phil sat back down at his desk ending the conversation. "Take Skye, do a standard checkup. Have her make contact and then back off."

May nodded at her Director and turned to go, stopping just before the door. "Sir, I understand that Harry Potter-Black probably does not need our help or the extra danger to his life that we might provide, but you have forgotten a very important fact. _We need him_."


	2. Skye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not get money from writing about Harry Potter and Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. if I did I would be doing it a lot more.

The broken and cracked wooden sign creaked in the wind. As Skye got closer it became obvious, the supposedly old sign still had a slight shine to it, the glaze protecting the sign from the elements, at first glance it wasn't an obvious as a design choice. Why would anyone want to make their business look older and dingier than it had to be? The sign was even broken perfectly around the name of the bar, The Shrieking Shack.

Skye fiddled with her ear piece, still uncomfortably unfamiliar in her ear.

"Tell me why we are here again?" Skye asked the seemingly empty air as her ear piece crackled.

"We are here because Coulson wants us here." May's clear voice shot through one ear. It felt eerily like she was standing right next to Skye talking directly to her.

"That is avoiding the question. You have to give me more than that." She drew her coat closer as she stopped just outside the door. "I understand checking on the cellist, after the files went live on the internet she could've been in trouble. I say _could have_ only if you had any doubts to my abilities to erase everything that had anything to do with us. I was _thorough_ , I would never have left her to H.Y.D.R.A. and US government hands. To be honest I thought we were over this, the whole doubting of my abilities." The darkened windows didn't give any information about what lay inside the building. "I got it though, of course Coulson would still want to make sure. All of S.H.I.E.L.D. has gone underground or turned into H.Y.D.R.A. His former girlfriend could have been in danger from anyone that remembered and might of wanted to use her as leverage."

"We don't doubt your abilities." May's monotone voice didn't give away anything.

Skye growled. "Stop avoiding. I would have deleted anything that Coulson wanted, but obviously he still doesn't trust me because I know nothing about this place. I know that I didn't delete any files that had this bar anywhere in them, I am certain. Just as certain as I am that this bar makes no appearance in any of the files that are still online. If all of the S.H.I.E.L.D. files were released like they say then why wouldn't this place show up? If Coulson wants us to check up on it then it has to have something to do with S.H.I.E.L.D. or H.Y.D.R.A. or something and I want to know. I want to know before I step in there to a possible trap and…"

"Skye." May's calm voice stopped her rant. "Coulson would never send you into possible danger. Do you trust him?"

"What an unfair question. I simply want to know what I am doing…"

"Do you trust me?" May's question derailed her.

"Of course I do." After everything that had happened, how could she not.

"Then trust me when I say that nothing in that bar is going to hurt you. Coulson has his reasons and as he is the director now you have to trust him or at the very least not question his every move. There is no alternative motive that we are not telling you. This is just a mission. Go into the bar, check out the occupants and then leave."

Skye glared at the bar, purposefully not looking towards May's hiding spot, they had taught her that much. With everyone and their mother looking for S.H.I.E.L.D. agents they needed to make sure to gather and protect as many as they could.

"Fine, but if my face ends up on the trophy wall of some serial killer I expect you to avenge me." Skye straightened her shoulders and walked in the door.

She hadn't know what to expect going into it, but she couldn't say she was surprised. The decoratively antiqued tables, chairs, and booths all comfortably worn. The entire place couldn't have been more than two years old and looked like it would fit perfectly in a historical fiction piece set in the 1600s, minus the modern taps behind the bar.

It was still early in the evening, barely 6 and there were only a few people around. Two elderly men sipping on something alone in two separate booths and a balding middle aged man nursing a beer at the counter.

Neither May and Coulson had told her who the target was, but she doubted either of the older men had enough bone density left to be dangerous, so it was probably the bald guy. She sat down at the bar and took off her jacket. Trying to inconspicuously keep an eye on the only other man sitting there.

"What can I do for you?" The British accent caught her off guard.

"Wha…" Skye's head swiveled to the last person in the bar, the only one she had skipped over, the bartender. Maybe in his mid-thirties, the man was distractingly attractive. The tousled black hair and striking green eyes set behind basic glasses. The man was lean and fit in a long sleeve maroon button down.

"Miss?" The voice interrupted her again.

"Oh right, I'm at a bar. Um…" She looked at the menu behind him, keeping an eye on the bartender. "What's the best that you have?"

He smiled at her and walked to a fridge behind the bar pulling a bottle to give to her.

Skye spent a minute just looking at the label, an intricate calligraphy in red and gold, spelling the word Gryffindor. "I've never seen this brand before."

"You wouldn't have, it's part of our own selection. It just seemed to fit you is all."

Skye shrugged and gave a nod of thanks, trying to focus back on the middle aged man.

She was distracted again when one of the elderly gentleman in the back stood up and crossed the bar to the other. The spoke a few words softly to each other. The standing man's shoulders slumped and he gave a sigh while whispering something. The other smiled and took his hands. The man stood from the booth and rested a hand on the other's slumped form. He pressed lips softly to the other's cheek. The two held hands and exited the bar together, both giving a final wave back at the bartender.

"Have a good one." Skye was shocked out of her stupor and turned to find the bartender still right next to her. Leaning across the counter staring at her.

"Is there something you wanted?" Skye asked curiously.

"I think that's what I'm supposed to ask you." The bartender smiled.

"What?"

"You walk into a pub this early in the day and sit at the counter right next to the bartender. There could only be a couple of reasons for this. Obviously something has troubled you, and instead of talking it out with a licensed professional that costs money, you instead choose to spend that money in a bar drowning your sours away."

"I think you mean sorrows."

"Ah, so you are sorrowful about something then? And judging from the way you looked at John and Michael, I can guess. Bad breakup?"

"No." Skye responded sharply and quickly. "That's not it."

"No?" The bartender looked almost amused at her. "I find I don't believe that. I am very good at reading people. It is part of my job."

"Nosy bartender?"

"Sometimes." He pulled a glass from beneath the bar and filled it with water taking a sip. "You need to work on being a little less conspicuous dear. You are extremely obvious." Skye startled, staring at him a little closer. Was she found out? No, it was just a bartender. "I mean, you sat down right next to me. You must be dying to talk about it. Your subconscious is trying to tell you something."

"No, that's not why I'm…" Skye stopped talking, sneaking a peak to the middle aged man who she had almost forgot about. "Uh, okay you got me. I want to talk about my breakup."

"Yes, we have already covered that. Tell me about him." He took another sip, his eyes intense and focused solely on her.

"Why do you assume it was a him? It could be a her, or another other…"

"I'm so sorry. Was it a her then?" He asked smugly.

"No…but it could have been. I'll have you know I am very well liked."

"Yes, I would imagine so." He stated matter of fact. "You are diverting. Tell me about the idiot."

"He isn't…" Skye stopped, and looked down at her bottle. Surprised that her first reaction was still to defend him. "Alright, he is. He is a raging moron. I can't remember what I even liked about him in the first place."

"Liar." The bartender stared at her and waved a hand to continue.

"I… of course I remember what I liked about him. He was so… righteous. He was good." She gripped the bottle tighter. "Which makes it all the worse because now I know the truth. That he is a lying, skivvy butthole."

"A right arse?"

"The worst. He betrayed me. He betrayed all of us. Our friends, our team. We had put our trust in him. To protect us, and guard us. The fucking bastard. After everything we had gone through together. I trusted him. What he did to… I don't think I could ever…" Skye was surprised to look down and find her bottle missing. The bartender had taken it away and held it in one hand.

"It looked like you were about to throw it. Not that I would blame you, but there is a strict no throwing policy in the pub." He pointed jokingly to a sign on the wall. "No throwing, poking, punching, kicking, fighting, or fucking. Though, we aren't as strict about the last one as we should be."

The ding echoed through the room of the door closing. Skye turned to slowly, not quite understanding what had happened. When had she missed the man leaving? Wasn't he the one she was supposed to be following? Why was May being silent? "Why did I tell you all of that?"

"Oh sorry about that. Just something I put in the drink, helps to loosen the tongue." Skye staggered away from the bar. How could she have missed... "Now, don't go running. Firstly, it's not like you would be able to leave anyway as I have this placed locked down. And secondly, I don't have any plans to hurt you. You haven't even finished your drink yet. Did you like it?"

"Yes." Skye clamped a hand over her mouth and stared horrified at him, she hadn't meant to say that. "You're an 084? You force people to tell the truth?"

"It has been a long time since someone has called me that and I can do a lot more than just make you tell the truth."

Skye backed up, stumbling over chairs and putting as much furniture between the two of them as possible.

"You should be careful. I have a Calvary behind me, ready to bust in at any time." She was frightened when all she heard from the ear piece was static.

"If you were trying to contact someone I am sorry to say that you are out of luck. No technology will work in here if I don't want it to. Didn't you see the No Phone's sign as you were walking in? No one ever understands it until they try and use their phones and low and behold..." The man calmly took another sip of water. He hadn't moved from his position leaning on the counter, deceptively harmless.

"Who are you?" The scared whisper slipped from her lips.

The man stood to his full height, shorter than average but still filling the room. He straightened his shirt and looked straight through her. His eyes like knives divesting her of secrets and sorrows.

"I am Harry Potter-Black. You came into my pub clueless?" As he spoke the lights dimmed and flickered. "Who are you? Or better yet what are you?"

* * *

Harry stared at the girl across from him. She could barely be in her mid-twenties, brown hair in a ponytail. Eyes wide and her hand still clasped over her mouth, as if she felt betrayed by her own body.

Harry couldn't blame her, his first experience with Veritaserum was something of a shock too and it never got less so. He didn't let his sympathy show though, he knew better.

The revelations of H.Y.D.R.A. within S.H.I.E.L.D. had come as a shock to everyone. He still hadn't been able to contact Clint, Natasha, or Steve. Tony had his face all over the news, which meant he had no time for explanations. The last he had heard was that Tony was taking in as many of the ousted loyal S.H.I.E.L.D. agents as his company could handle. Hill hadn't contacted him either, but no doubt for security reasons. As one of the few high level S.H.I.E.L.D. agents that got out of the mess with a relatively intact reputation she would be under heavy scrutiny and surveillance.

Thor had shown for a second after the mess in London. He and Jane then visited Hermione for a bit, still in the honeymoon phase of their relationship, together for the first time. He couldn't blame Thor for being absent. If he had a girlfriend planets away that he couldn't see for months he probably wouldn't be paying attention to the rest of the world either. It was inconvenient though that he had to disappear right at the time that the world needed him.

The girl was still scooting backwards towards the door, not that it would help her any, the Shack was a fortress, whoever had sent her in here hadn't known what they were stepping into. Her hand crept to her right ear fiddling with something. Her radio hadn't worked since her first steps into the Shack, but she probably only recognized it now, which only made him more suspicious. Why would they send such an untrained agent to him?

"Who are you?" It was time to get answers.

"Skye." The girl gasped out, helpless to the potion.

"No last name?"

"Not that I know of." The truth slipped from her lips unbidden.

"Interesting." Harry stared at the girl, shaking slightly, but doing her best to control it. She had obviously had some training, but very little it seemed. "Who sent you?"

Her hand made a reappearance, covering her mouth, trying to force it shut. Teeth grinding together uselessly, when the answer finally slipped out it was almost growled. "S.H.I.E.L.D."

Harry stared at her in shock. "S.H.I.E.L.D. is gone. Don't you mean H.Y.D.R.A.?"

"No, I mean S.H.I.E.L.D. The real one." The answer sneaked out again as Skye just kept looking more horrified with herself.

"So some part of it survived the fall? I can't say I expected that. From the news it seemed like they had all been rounded up. I'm glad. I had a good friend that gave his life for the place. He would be devastated to see how far it's fallen." It made sense why she was so new then. They probably didn't have many resources left, which meant that no matter how untrained they still had to send agents to the field. He shook his head. "Who's the director now that Fury's gone?"

The girl's eyes widened. Both hand rose to her face, the terror that crossed her face made him stop. Her mouth barely opened when he held up a hand, thinking better of it.

"Don't answer that question. Even the walls have ears around here. It is best not even to let it be spoken. I will trust that Fury chose a suitable successor, he was always very…efficient." Harry grimaced. They had never been able to get along, Fury always trying to get him on missions. Harry was very happy to stay out of the whole mess. It was probably Hill anyway. Working in secret behind Tony's company protection. "Why were you sent?"

"They didn't tell me anything. Just to come in here and observe the occupants."

Harry laughed. "So that's why you were staring so closely at poor Mr. Williams? I thought the guy was about to have a heart attack, he's not the type of guy that gets a lot of attention from the opposite sex. He is going through a terrible custody case right now with his ex."

"You really talk to all of your customers?"

"Oh no, not all. I am barely in here anyway. I only come in about once a month during off hours, so I only get the regulars. I have an employee that covers the bar usually. We have developed a decent sized customer base now. So, when I am in here I like to talk to my customers, get updates on what is like when I'm not around. John and Michael have been coming in together since we opened. They have their little spats, but after being together for so many decades who can blame them. Mr. Williams is fighting a losing war with his ex, so I try to help if I can. People have such a tendency to judge others at face value."

"Why are you telling me this?" The girl questioned.

"I'm trying to waste time. The truth telling only lasts for so long. I didn't want to send you back out there with it still on." He retook his seat behind the bar. "Do you want to tell me more about you situation? I assure you I am a good listener."

"No, I think I have already said far too much. I don't want M..my partner to be more upset that she already will be. Though, it is a little curious. They were so sure that I wouldn't be in any danger in here. How would they know that?" Skye was apparently not good at manipulating answers out of people yet either.

"I am well known in some small circles. They probably know me, and know that I would never hurt an innocent."

"I am not innocent." She looked almost horrified after she said it.

"I'm sure you believe that. Our definitions of innocent would differ vastly." Harry checked his watch. "It should be wearing off shortly. I can guess what happened with your boyfriend. A disguised H.Y.D.R.A. agent I'm guessing."

She nodded and couldn't hide the anger that sparked in her eyes. "He was."

"I'm sorry to hear that. One of the agents I was in close contact with for years turned out to be one of them as well, a man called Jasper Sitwell. He was pretty high up in the rankings too. It was a shock to the system. How could someone that I thought I knew so well turn out to be so different? I thought we were friends, or at the very least colleges. How could someone be that evil and two faced?"

"Exactly." Skye nodded.

"I've found that people rarely start off evil. They always have reasons, even if some are very twisted and deranged. H.Y.D.R.A. had many agents in S.H.I.E.L.D. and I guarantee that just like the Nazis some of them are just following orders, protecting themselves. That does not excuse their actions, but nothing is as black and white as we want it to be. S.H.I.E.L.D. was never about picking flowers or healing children. It did a hard grey job to protect those that did. That is a noble cause, but you know what they say about good intentions. Even Fury wanted to send giant death aircrafts into the atmosphere to destroy threats. There is a thin line that power tends to blur the closer you get to it. You should tell your new director to be careful not to follow the path of his predecessor. He might not like where it ends up."

Harry check his watch once more and nodded. It didn't take more than a few flicks of the wrist for the wards to fall. He motioned to the door and nodded. The girl had stopped shaking some time ago, now she just stared at him and the door.

"You know S.H.I.E.L.D. could use som…"

"You can save the spiel young Skye, I have heard it from Fury himself. There hasn't been anything yet that has convinced me to join your little crusade. I have already seen too much of power souring people."

"But you have power. That much is obvious. Yet here you are, tending a bar."

Harry laughed. "Miss Skye, when you get back to wherever it is that you are hiding you should look me up on the internet that you muggles like so much. I am no mere bartender." He smiled sadly. "I have also learned from the mistakes of people far smarter than I am. I am content here."

She nodded and headed for the door, no doubt glad to be leaving. "Thanks for the strangest conversation I have ever been part of."

"Happy to be of service." Harry gave a small mocking bow. "Skye?" She turned back at the doorway to look at him. "There are plenty of fish in the sea."

She smiled at him and then exited.

Harry pulled his wand from his holster in his sleeve and waved a few more times removing the remainders of the Keep Away wards. He stretched and then made his way to the back room. The only telephone in the pub stayed back there.

He rested his hand on the phone and thought for a second. Who should he call? He smiled and picked up the phone to dial the number, which sent him straight to voicemail.

"Hey Natasha, I understand you are busy with the whole underground escaping you've got going on. So it's completely understandable that you have missed a few dinners, you and everyone else that is. However, I just got a walk in at the Shack and you will never guess who it was. A S.H…." Harry barely had time to feel a breeze on his back or hear the squeak of the backdoor opening.

He felt the prick in his neck.

He didn't even have time to lift a hand to check it out before his legs were collapsing on him. Blurry figures entering the room, messing up the carefully organized shelves.

"Sir, we've got…" Was all he heard before he was gone.


	3. Interlude: Natasha

Natasha ignored all of Tony's encouragements and bribes to have a team dinner, though it was really only the three of them that were around. Steve had graciously accepted with a tired nobility that meant his 40s sensibilities wouldn't allow him refuse. Natasha had never had that problem.

Her room in the tower was annoyingly perfect. The warm woods of the room fought the modern appeal of floor to ceiling windows. Everything was clean and tucked away. A perfect mask that covered comfort and convenience. Tony and Pepper knew her a little too well if they knew what she liked. Every paranoid instinct in her urged her to leave. If not the tower than at least the room. You should never stay in the place that people expected you to be. The rest of her body did a good job of ignoring her better sense.

She collapsed on the worn leather couch with a muffled groan. Her body aching with overuse. No matter what Tony might say and the rest might think, she wasn't superhuman. Her muscles groaned in pain and barely twitched when she moved to grab her phone. After a minute of not moving she gave into her baser desires.

"JARVIS?"

"Yes, Miss Romanoff? Might I send up a masseuse? Mr. Stark has one on call that he has approved." JARVIS's voice didn't come from any one direction of the room, though it was more concentrated in the ceiling. Her muscles tensed and then groaned in protest, her exhaustion beating out the urge to spring into action at the strange noise.

"As nice as that sounds, I will have to take you up on it later. I think I need sleep."

"Of course, your master bedroom is located behind the first door on your left." JARVIS was very conciliating. "There is a bathroom with a large tub attached."

"Right." She took a look at the door and the distance she would have to move with a sigh. "Before I attempt that feat I need something else." She groaned as she pulled the broken Stark Phone from a pocket. "My phone got broken and I need to check for messages." She had broken her phone sometime during the chase, but hadn't thrown it out. Too paranoid that they might find a way to put it back together and get some information off it.

"Connecting... You have 6 unheard messages. Playing now."

"Hey Tash, how's it …" Clint's voice came from the recording, sounding bored.

"Next Message." She had no interest in listening to him whine about his boring mission.

"Tash, what's going on? Sitwell is acting weirder than usual. I just..." Clint's voice was definitely less bored this time.

"Next."

"Next time I see you I'm going to shoot an arrow though you. I'm not even joking, S.H.I.E.L.D. is probably going to force me to, you and Steve both. Seriously, what is going on? You leaving me in the dark is not helping your case. What did you guys do? They are talking like the Captain is public enemy number one. Did they figure out that he eats babies or something? He's a freaking boy scout. Call Me BACK! I am serious this time Tash, I can't help if I don't know what's going on." Clint sounded worried, not something she had heard in a while, not since Budapest if she remembered correctly.

"Would you like the next message, Miss Romanoff?" JARVIS's voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

"Yes, go ahead."

"H.Y.D.R.A.? FUCKING H.Y.D.R.A. and you didn't call me back? You couldn't have been that busy, too busy to fucking warn me that the people I had been working for, killing for, more than a decade of my life spent serving a better cause only to learn that it was H.Y.D.R.A. Fuck Tash, how could we have gotten it so wrong?" There was some muffled shooting over the recording. An explosion sounded in the distance with some cries of pain. "You better be safe, or I'll kill you when I find you." The final noise on the recording was another explosion louder than before.

Natasha turned over on the couch. She hadn't called Clint because it was moving too fast. His last location had been stuck in the middle of nowhere Kazakhstan if she remembered correctly. He wouldn't have been able to make it in time no matter what he pulled off.

"Next message JARVIS."

"I'm on my way back to New York. I'll see you soon Tash. Might pick up some drinks on the way to the tower." Natasha felt her muscles release, relaxing the little tension they had gained. Clint sounded tired, more than she had heard in a long time. He sounded a lot like she felt. That the rug they had thought steady and correct had been pulled from underneath unsuspecting feet. Harry would no doubt ply him with as much liquor as he could carry and probably follow him to the tower anyway. For all his protestations Harry cared more than he would admit.

"When was that recorded?"

"Yesterday morning. Would you like to hear the final message?"

"Sure." Natasha moved slowly, but stood up to stretch. She shuffled her way to the bedroom, more than ready for some sleep.

"Hey Natasha," Harry's calm voice came out of the recording. "I understand you are busy with the whole underground escaping you've got going on. So it's completely understandable that you have missed a few dinners, you and everyone else that is. However, I just got a walk in at the Shack and you will never guess who it was. A sh…" Harry stopped. Natasha stopped with him. There was ruffling from the recording, then the sound of wood cracking and combat boots. It was silent for a few more minutes until a man's voice was heard.

"Sir, we've got him contained. The coast was clear, he didn't even see us." The man's voice was indistinct and far away. There were a few more noises, a body being dragged. "Yes, yes, sir. Of course, sir." Another minute with no noise, then a final two words, spoken no doubt to a superior over a radio.

"Hail H.Y.D.R.A."

The recorded clicked at the end. Natasha straightened, her entire body tensing. The adrenaline the rushed through her veins destroyed her remaining exhaustion.

"When was that recorded?" Natasha's asked coldly.

"Yesterday evening." JARVIS even sounded more awake and stiff than before. "Mr. Stark and Mr. Rogers have been informed. They are waiting for you upstairs."

"Thank you JARVIS." And then she was gone.


	4. Bobbi Morse

Bobbi opened the door to the conference room, her two guards stopping to stand outside. The room was already occupied which came as a bit of a surprise. Sunil Bakshi was Whitehall's right hand, and had no time for idleness. The second in command of the H.Y.D.R.A. laboratories sat at the head of the table, a position reserved for him when Whitehall was unavailable. He was flipping through a folder with a confidential seal placed on it.

"Ms. Morse please come in." He motioned to the seat next to him. Bobbi wasted no time in doing so, gracefully slipping into the chair. "We find ourselves in a bit of a predicament, and Mr. Whitehall thought your particular skill set might be useful in this endeavor."

"Of course, sir, anything I can do." Bobbi straightened in her seat ready for her new assignment. Bakshi pushed the folder across the table.

"You know of our efforts to track down the last dredges of S.H.I.E.L.D. I assume." Bobbi nodded. The entire force was focused on pulling in the last of the top secret agency. It was H.Y.D.R.A.'s top priority to absorb or destroy the final bits of S.H.I.E.L.D. They were also having a harder time of it than they thought they would. "One of our Agents spotted The Calvary in New York City, one of S.H.I.E.L.D.s top agents who before the fall had sworn off field work. Obviously they were intrigued, called it in, and followed her. It appeared as though she was staking out a bar, but later was realized that she was training one of their remaining agents. We don't know what for, unfortunately, we arrived slightly too late to catch them." His hands clenched. "Those responsible have been punished for their tardiness, but they thought if they brought in something else they wouldn't be reprimanded as heavily. Luckily for them and for us, they managed to bring in something interesting." He pointed to the folder.

Bobbi opened the folder. "This is who you found?" The image on top was of a middle aged man, unruly black hair and dull green eyes. He looked half asleep on the gurney they had cuffed him to, an IV attached to one arm pumping some kind of drug into him. The hospital gown covered most of his body that she could see.

"Yes. At first they mistook him for a bartender with possible S.H.I.E.L.D. connections. They did the standard grab and bag and brought him back here. Mr. Whitehall didn't think him anything interesting. We were going to ask a few questions and release him back with slightly gargled memories and the urge to contact us if he ever talked to the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents again." He reached over to turn the page. "Then we started noticing something strange." A picture of sparks coming from a heart monitor machine. "Electronics started acting strange around him. By strange I mean shorting."

"Electromagnetic sir?" Bobbi flipped through the next few pages, scientists' notes and more images. Though this time it appeared as if the man was in a glass box, still with an IV, but this time strapped to a metal chair. She noticed the slight frost in the corners of the glass. Temperature torture.

"That was our first thought, then things started levitating. Just the small stuff first, pens and clipboards, but after we had removed all metals from the room the wooden and plastic furniture as well." There were a few images in the file of that phenomenon, then images of fire. "You skipped ahead. He set fire to items in his first room, which is why we moved him to the box. The thought was if we could cool down his unconscious body and take away flammable materials the fire would stop." Another picture of the glass box. It took her a moment to notice the difference. The walls of glass had started bending in, tilting the box with the unconscious body still inside. "No matter what was tried, it was unsuccessful in making the strange occurrences stop. Then stupidly one of the scientists decided to wake him up, under the theory that if he was awake the incidents would stop and they could start testing him again."

Bobbi filled to one of the later pages of the folder, a bloody hallway. At least 12 bodies laid in broken and bloody positions on the floor. "I take it the incidents stopped."

Bakshi gave a small smirk and nodded. "It provided valuable intel, but a regrettable loss of resources. The subject was still sedated at the time. From what we could get out of the mostly ruined surveillance video we can see him stagger into walls and at one point crash to the floor. Yet," He nodded to the picture. "He was still able to take out 10 Agents and 2 Scientists. He was also muttering to himself at the time, something about apparition and some other Latin words that we haven't been able to translate, but was shaking his head the entire time. The theorists think that he needs some level of concentration to perform successfully. He was able to get out of the box was relatively little effort though almost as if the box unlocked itself for him. "

"How did you catch him again?" Bobbi started reading one of the notes, chicken scratch writing about spontaneous combustion.

"We guided him to an air tight room and gassed him. The scientists are getting a little tetchy that they can't study him. None of our normal electronics work around him. In fact, anything but light bulbs kill themselves within a few meters of the man. We think the light bulbs only survive because he wants them to, after all who would want to sit in the dark." Bakshi stood from his chair to look out the window. "He is obviously a very skilled operative, but we could find him nowhere in any of S.H.I.E.L.D.s files personnel or otherwise. It makes H.Y.D.R.A. nervous that there were secrets S.H.I.E.L.D. was able to hide from us. Mr. Whitehall does not like to be nervous."

"You want me to question him." It wasn't a question, Bobbi knew what they were looking for, but was confused that they were coming to her. There were plenty of interrogators in H.Y.D.R.A. whose actual job it was to question the enemies. She was the head of security and while she did some interrogating it wasn't truly her job.

"You might be asking why you?" Bakshi nodded. "Mr. Whitehall has reasons for all things, it is not our prerogative to question them." Bobbi nodded in agreement. "Some of our other interrogators have tried to question him, and some will continue to do so in time with you. We don't know which method will work so we will try all possible options."

"Of course, sir. Have they been able to get anything out of him?"

"Just his name. He appears to have had some training in interrogation resistance." Bakshi frowned. "Harry James Potter-Black."

Bobbi's eyes widened. "The billionaire sir?"

"The very same. We don't know what he was doing in the bar. It is owned by a subsidiary of a company that is owned by his company. He appears to have been close to it though. We asked a couple of regulars and they said he comes in on occasion as a bartender."

"So we have a billionaire S.H.I.E.L.D. agent with unknown powers in our basement sir?"

"Yes agent, we need to know what he knows." Bakshi nodded at her.

"Sir, how long have we had him?"

"Almost two weeks, Ms. Morse, and we still know very little about him or his powers." He motioned to her. "That will be all agent, please report if you get anything new from the subject. We are all waiting with baited breath."

Bobbi stood from her chair and gave a small bow. "Hail H.Y.D.R.A." She saluted and then left, grabbing her guards as she exited.

Bobbi stopped by her room first, dropping off the folder onto her table. She stretched before sitting down to take another look at the folder. Chance were they would expect her to start immediately and she needed to be prepared. The folder was thin, mostly aftermath of things he had already done. Mr. Potter-Black was a well-known philanthropist, with his own charity and donation efforts. If rumors were true he was close friends with everyone from the Queen of England to Bill Gates and Tony Stark.

Bobbi opened her laptop to search for news on him. The man was a recluse except for charity events and various business functions. Like Stark he had gotten his start from family money had had expanded to a couple of his own businesses. There were a few articles about the event that got him knighted, but other than that there were barely any mentions of his military training sprinkled through the society pages.

If this man had really been a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent his cover was bullet proof. There were too many mentions of him at events for him to be a particularly active one.

Bobbi did some cursory searching through the S.H.I.E.L.D. information that had been released, but as Bakshi had said there was no trace of him.

She flipped through the folder again. The incidents of his powers were interesting in their variety, normally people would have one of them, not all. S.H.I.E.L.D. had many interactions with similar skilled individuals during their time, but they almost never let the unknown continue with his regular life afterwards. Potter-Black was very much an exception and Bobbi felt like she was missing something.

She rubbed her eyes and turned back to the laptop. She searched for the Shrieking Shack, the bar they had found him in. Bobbi's eyes widened for the second time that day. 'Captain America's Bar Of Choice' the title of the article was bold on the screen.

She felt a shiver go down her spine. Harry Potter-Black knew Captain America.

She backed up a few pages to a society page she had skimmed. It had mentioned in passing that Potter-Black had invested heavily in Stark Industries. There was even a picture of the two men talking about something and smiling at one of their functions. If the man was friends with one Avenger it was probably nothing. If the man was friends with two Avengers…

"Shit." The curse slipped from her lips. If the man they had in their basement was friends with the Avengers and had been missing for two weeks, there was no way they hadn't noticed. After a bit more the media would pick up on it too. The problem with being in the spotlight was that they noticed when you disappeared.

Romanoff and Rogers had been busy hiding, but had started appearing again in the company of Stark recently. Thor was also making appearances with his girlfriend in some of the science centers of the world, he was last spotted headed to an Argentinean telescope and research facility, but the man could fly. If they needed him they could get him.

Bobbi searched through the release S.H.I.E.L.D. files again. The last mention of Barton was an undercover mission in the Middle East, no doubt he would be back by now.

Bobbi leaned back in her chair and rubbed her eyes. There was no doubt in her mind, the Avengers would be coming for him. That didn't mean it would be easy though. Worst case scenario they had been notified the moment Potter-Black went off the radar which meant they had been looking for almost two weeks and hadn't found him yet. That was enough of a head start, Stark could be fooled for a while, but eventually he would find them and that didn't take into account Romanoff's or Barton's contacts.

So, the only question that remained, who did she tell?

* * *

Harry's eyelids dropped again, pulled down by a combination of gravity and biology. The needle in his arm burned. He could feel the thick drip of the sedative as it pushed into his vein. The scientists had been arguing about it for a while. Some wanted to lower the dose because it was supposed to be too much for a human to handle, others pointed out how much they had to raise it to keep him under.

Harry didn't say anything. His magic was eating the muggle drug as fast as it could, but had been overwhelmed some time back. He didn't have enough energy to do much of anything, could barely see and couldn't think.

The sharp hum of electricity tried to pull him awake. He knew better than to try and sleep, but the drugs gave no quarter. Harry felt the spark and then…

"AHHHHHHHHH." He screamed as the power shot through him, metal of the chair was a fantastic conductor. His hospital gown provided no insulation. His head flung back, body thrashing in the chair. The uncomfortable metal bolted to the ground didn't budge. After a minute the electricity disappeared as quickly as it arrived. He felt as his body collapsed in the little lee-way it had.

His muscles twitched in the aftermath, tense and painful.

Harry had stopped keeping count of the shocks too long ago to even have an estimate. If they allowed him any sleep is was unnoticeable to him. Everything they could do to keep him off balance, keep him confused, without rest. Harry would applaud their ingenuity if it wasn't being used on him.

The drugs pulled him under as the shocks woke him up.

Every time he had tried to disable the shock they had it back up in under an hour, and the time that it was gone they used other methods to keep him awake. After the cold water they pumped into the box to drown him, Harry had stopped trying. The gown was still slightly damp and covered in vomit from that.

His muscles no longer stopped twitching between shocks, the electricity had won. His spasm pulled his stitches, but he didn't have the energy left to groan.

Harry barely noticed when the box opened, the grey blurred vision wouldn't have told him much anyway.

"Mr. Potter-Black." The woman's voice was nice, but monotone. Different than the ones he had heard before. He tensed uncontrollably for a second, they were about to try a new interrogation tactic. "I am here to ask you a few questions. Though I'm sure you know that."

Harry's energy didn't last, head hanging again. He wasn't going to tell them anything. "Myname's'arryPo'erBlack" He slurred.

"I'm sorry I couldn't quite hear that Mr. Potter-Black." A warm hand rested under his chin. He couldn't help but sigh, letting his chilled skin rest in the warmth as long as it could. The rational part of his brain screamed at him to lift his head away from the warmth, yelled at him to not fall for niceness. Harry hadn't heard his rational brain in days.

He could only feel his fingers and toes when the muscle spasms became violent, the ice cold air froze his lungs as he breathed. The warmth from the woman's hand was the only thing he had felt in days that hadn't hurt him, at least not yet.

He shivered when it disappeared, leaning into the position it had gone.

"Mr. Potter-Black, that's quite a mouthful. Do you mind if I call you Harry?" The woman's voice was softer than before and closer. Harry felt a familiar weight press on the bridge of his nose and ears. He signed in relief as his glasses appeared on his face.

He could see for the first time since he had been captured. The oval rimmed frames were a familiar comfort. He blinked and tried to focus. The gray room he was in hadn't changed. The walls seemed slightly dented, but there was nothing else interesting to be seen. Nothing but the woman in front of him.

The brunette was tall and slim. Her maroon coat as painfully bright in the dull room. Two handles poked from behind her shoulders, a type of baton weapon if Harry was correct. She was beautiful, but then again, so was Natasha.

"what s'ould I call 'ou?" Harry's lips trembled and teeth clattered. There wasn't a part of his body that wasn't in pain or numbed from the cold.

"Please, call me Bobbi. It is so nice to hear you answer at last." The woman's smile could have fooled the best con man into giving up his ways. Harry shook his head, trying to remember something. He wasn't supposed to do something, but couldn't remember what. He was so tired.

His head slipped again and the warmth was back. This time lightly placed on his cheek, and he nuzzled it without thought. It felt so good.

"Harry, stay with me. What's the name of your bar?"

"s'riekin' s'ack." He mumbled into the hand. The pain in his head was back. He was forgetting something.

"Why did you name it that?" There was a puff of fog, the moisture from her warm breath in the chilled room.

"sc'ool joke." His mind hurt, everything hurt.

"I'll bet it was. I noticed you have a brewery too. It is doing very well." Harry nodded, he was really proud of it. It was a remembrance of everything they had lost. "Harry, I heard someone came to visit you a couple weeks ago there."

"'eah." Skye had been nice, in a little naïve and untrained. His head was screaming. There was something…something…

"What was their name?" Bobbi's voice was monotone, but sharp. Harry couldn't…

Say. Harry's eyes widened, and he shot away from her hand. Head straight, he glared at her. He should have known better. He shouldn't say anything. Adrenaline pumped through him. "My name is Harry Potter-Black."

Bobbi stepped back and shook her head. "I won't reward bad behavior Harry."

"My name is Harry Potter-Black." He growled at her, more awake than he had been in days.

Bobbi tsked, and with one hand plucked the glasses from his face, once again becoming a blurred figure. "Very well. We will meet again Harry, I'm sure." She nodded at the wall. Unsurprised when it opened in full. The figure motioned with a hand and Harry could barely tense before it hit.

"AHHHHHHHHH." He writhed in the chair, electricity coursing through him again. He couldn't say how long it lasted, but when it ended he collapsed again.

Harry couldn't help it, he started to laugh. He couldn't stop, painful gulps of air and heaving painful chest. Hysterical laughter caused the woman to turn back to him.

He couldn't stop, until she stepped back into the room.

"What is so funny, Harry?"

He stared at the blurred figure with a smirk. He twisted in the chair, causing the edge of his gown to fall in to display his scarred chest. The old scars, deep but healed crisscrossed his skin, old friends. There were some bright red marks, band new, some still oozing. They complemented the dark red Y in his chest, stapled and stitched back together after they had finished opening him up.

Harry couldn't see the details of her face, but stared straight at her and smirked. "You think you are hurting me?" It was painful to speak through his torn throat. "You really think you are going to get anything from this? Think you are going to learn something from cutting me open?" His hoarse voice cracked. "Your _interrogation techniques_ make me laugh. Your little shocks are like tickles compared to what I've been through. I won't give you anything, you might as well kill me first." It hurt to laugh, it pulled his staples and bruised organs. His muscles still twitched in pain. "But, I'll give you some advice. You better do it fast, because when my friends get here they'll be happy to show you the proper methods."

The woman turned and exited the box. Harry heard one last thing before the box closed again leaving him alone to the cold grey. "Up the dose."

* * *

Harry couldn't tell you if he was awake or asleep. He couldn't tell you how long he had been there either.

When he opened his eyes next there was a blinking red light that filled the box. It was still cold, but the red light dyed the grey, almost mimicking the look of blood. He couldn't hear anything, when the box was closed it was silent. A deafening silence.

Harry closed his eyes again, surprised when he didn't hear the hum of electricity or the spark that was quickly followed by his most hated enemy. In fact, the room was warmer than it had been before. Harry no longer saw the fog as he breathed.

Something was wrong.

He barely heard the pressure release from the door. But the gunshots that rang in the box were hard to miss. He could heard muffled fighting, and then a brief silence. The door opened slowly as if pushed manually.

He was surprised when it opened. He still couldn't see much, but the red blur was familiar. There was another figure standing by the door.

"I would like to say, I object to this course of action. We don't have a lot of time before they find us." The British accent broke through the silence. A female voice.

"We have time for this if I say we do." The interrogator from before was unmistakable. They pushed one last time. Harry barely saw the blurs, but heard when the first one let out a loud gasp.

"What have they…"

"No time." The red blur came closer. She pushed something onto his face again. He sighed as the familiar weight of his glasses reappeared. She roughly turned to the restraints. "Simmons get the IV."

The other female rushed into the box. Harry saw her for the first time, light brown hair cut short, wearing a lab jacket.

She took one look at it then at him. "Sorry about this. What a terrible introduction. This won't hurt a bit."

Harry groaned as the needle slid out of his arm. It felt almost as good as the restraints being pulled off. Harry stretched his wrists for the first time in weeks, and weakly clenched his fists. He wasn't in good shape.

"How do I know…"

"We really don't have time for this. Either you come with us or you don't. We have an extraction on the roof, but we need to leave now." Bobbi, the interrogator was looking between his leg restraints and the door every few seconds.

"This is your idea of a bloody rescue mission?" Harry's hoarse voice joked.

"Believe me, it was a complete shock to me too." Simmons grabbed a bag from outside the door and brought it closer. "We picked up your things. Or what we could find at least." She pulled some clothing then shook her head. "No time." She pulled out a coat and handed it to him.

Harry pulled it on and stretched his left leg as she released it. He would need help walking. The last of the drugs were still working through his system, he wouldn't be able to help fight. "Is there a stick in there?"

Simmons looked at him a little crazy, "A…a stick…" She shook her head and dug through the bag again. Pulling out a long black stick. Harry could say he had never been so happy to see the Elder Wand. "This is crazy, why do you have…"

Harry plucked it from her hand with a sigh. Magic raced through his veins, warming him in a way nothing else would. "Thank you Ms. Simmons."

"Dr.." The female still trying to figure out what it was for. Bobbi pulled the last of the restraints out.

"Time to go." Bobbi stood with Simmons, pulling on the backpack.

Harry nodded. He moved slowly, but groaned when every muscle in his body screamed at him for the motion. "I think I'm going to need some help."

Simmons shot back and placed one of his arms over her shoulder. It took a combined effort, but he stood. His legs were shaking and weak, but he could walk.

"We need to move, now." Bobbi guided them along. Opened the door to the hallway and lead them to the stairs.

Harry clutched the stair railing and pulled himself up. The entire thing was going a little too simply. They were one floor from the roof when the stair door slammed open.

The H.Y.D.R.A. operatives that stormed the stairwell carried machine guns and wore vests. Harry twitched towards his wand, but had barely moved when Bobbi shot forward.

Harry hadn't seen anyone move that gracefully since his first foray with Natasha. The metal batons she pulled from her back harness were like extensions of her body. She flowed through forms easily, knocking guns out of the way and crashing into helmets.

Harry didn't do much more than gape as she took down eight men. She was panting in a crouch surrounded by unconscious bodies by the time Harry remembered where they were.

It was only luck that he saw the remaining operative in the door, with his gun pointed to Simmons.

Harry flung his body forward just as the gunshot sounded. The punch hit the left of his back and he fell heavily on Simmons. He had forgotten how much he hated getting shot. The female stared at him with wide eyes in shock.

Harry didn't see Bobbi take down the last guy, but she must have because after a moment she was grabbing his other side and hauling. Harry groaned as he felt the blood gush through his jacket.

"Why…why…I don't…"Simmons was muttering worriedly while Bobbi pulled both of them up the stairs.

"Simmons...Simmons…Jemma." Bobbi's sharp tone stopped Simmon's muttering. "I need you to open the door." It felt like only second before they were on the roof.

Harry gasped when the breeze hit him. The chill was natural, and comforting.

"Where is it?" The sharp tone of Simmons was hard to ignore. "I thought…"

"It'll be here." Bobbi calmed her.

Harry let his head fall backwards, staring at the sky. There weren't too many stars in the sky due to the light pollution of the city, but what he could see was beautiful.

The last think he heard was Simmon's frantic tones and the shush of plane blades through the air.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
